


Christmas Gifts

by danvssomethingorother



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Christmas Time, Gift Fic, M/M, angst is here but its not overbearing, slight PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-24 05:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17095022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danvssomethingorother/pseuds/danvssomethingorother
Summary: Rusty reminisces about past Christmases with his father but Brock is always there to lighten the mood.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyofdecember](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofdecember/gifts).



It was strange celebrating the holidays again for Rusty, he had grown so indifferent towards it years ago. 

He remembered one Christmas he had with his father, he had worked months repairing his clock radio his Uncle Rodney had ended up shooting several times after it woke him up on one of his off days.

He wrapped it with care, as much care as a ten-year-old could give something and set it under the tree Uncle Horace had been lovingly decorating, trying to make it perfect for the party coming up. 

When the party had come and the presents were unwrapped, Rusty was dismayed to find out the present he had worked so hard to create for his father had been tossed out replaced with a prettier golden box addressed to his father and from him. His smile dropped even as his father pulled him into a hug and kiss for the cameras knowing he would be scolded for not smiling later. His father didn’t want the homemade gift he made, proof he could make projects on his own without his help, he wanted a shiny, brand new untarnished radio. Something that would look photogenic, just like he wanted his son to always look.

It was alright if that radio didn’t pick up as many channels as his old one or that Rusty had worked so hard to make it work better, it mattered that it looked better for the cameras. Just as it didn’t matter that Rusty was dying inside at such a young age as long as he could smile brightly and conceal his wounds in designer cloths. 

He had never been allowed to feel sad or angry about these things, so they slowly just became things that happened. It was easier to not feel it at all then be bothered by it, being bothered by it just meant verbal abuse in therapy or in worse case scenario, his father threatening to leave him with those men who hurt him.

Rusty was no longer a child now, he had children of his own who wanted him to be bothered, wanted him to care enough to decorate and shop and make traditions and memories for them to carry into adulthood.

Rusty sat on his bed with a large stack of magazines he had found scattered around his house, just staring at them. His sons were five but they were pretty good at finding ways of making their demands for the holidays known.

He glanced over at Brock as he sat down next to him on the bed, eying the magazines as well, taking action as always taking one from the stack and flipping it open.

“You aren’t going to get your five-year-old a semi-automatic, are you?”

Truthfully, Rusty hadn’t been paying attention to any of the magazines he had been collecting from every nook and cranny of the compound. 

“That is your fault leaving your weapon catalogs down for Hank to find,” he sighed out with a chuckle leaning against Brock’s shoulder. Something about the holidays always set off his fight or flight reactions and he was feeling needier then usual.

Brock wrapped his strong arm around him, gently pressing his warm fingers against his skin making him melt into the rare affection Brock gave anyone.

“Dean wants lingerie…” Brock chuckled picking up another magazine, “He wants that pair of underwear you bought…”

Rusty began laughing nervously yanking the magazine from Brock, staring at the lacey underwear with no backside he had hoped would make it funnier and easier for him and Brock.

“That was your Christmas gift…”

Brock just started snickering playfully pushing at Rusty’s head.

“Doc, you really need to get more family friendly magazine subscriptions, your sons want some very inappropriate things…”

Rusty was barely suited of taking care of himself, never really learned how when everything in his life had always been controlled to a T by his father leaving him to drown without him around. He truly pitied his sons having him as a father, he tried but he was always messing something up thinking of his needs and wants first as he always did.

Without Brock, the entire Venture family would be doomed. 

“Maybe we should just make them write a letter to Santa or whatever, I don’t think we are getting anywhere with the magazines they stole out of our closets….”

Rusty sighed just burying himself into Brock, willing to agree with anything he wanted to offer. He didn’t exactly have a stable childhood to look back to base his own parenting off.

“Are you still thinking about it?” Brock didn’t sound annoyed, but he wasn’t exactly bursting at the seems with worry either like Pete used to do.

“I just want to get through the holiday,” he groaned the annoyance over shadowing the pain and anxiety trickling through him, “I hate this time of year.”

“Well its not about you now, its about the boys,” Brock firmly reminded him not letting him fall into another self-pity party. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grumbled back, “We’ll let them write to Santa. Maybe we can get Pete and Billy to dress like Santa and his elf again this year…”

“Doc,” Brock sighed with an eye roll, “They are getting too old to believe the excuse that Santa lost all that weight and his skin turned that pale because of a lab accident making them the perfect gifts…”

“Its bound to work one last year,” Rusty said with a devilish smile kissing Brock on the lips making him roll his eyes.

Brock made the season he hated most bearable, as long as he was here, he could make it through anything.


	2. Chapter 2

Rusty knew he was taking too long, he should have been ready thirty minutes ago, he was breaking Brock’s schedule.

There was just something soothing about just lying here in the now lukewarm water. Submerging the last strands of red hair under the waters surface, the familiar ring of white noise deafening him.

When he was six, Helper once malfunctioned and shoved him under just like this, he probably would have drowned and saved the world a heart ache if it wasn’t for his uncle Rodney swooping into the rescue.

Wrapping him in a thick towel and on instinct the first thing he did was poke his head out the door to yell at Jonas about his damn robot.

That was before the action juice destroyed his relationship with his uncle, when he would gladly cling to him and for the time being think he was incapable of hurting him.

He shot to the surface gagging a little on the water as Brock beat on the door loudly telling him Pete and Billy were here and he needed to get his ass out here.

“Fineeeee,” he whined loudly at Brock beating on the door again as he got out of the tub and quickly drying and dressing. His hair was still dripping wet as he exited the bathroom, drenching his ugly sweater Hank and Dean had picked out just for him on their outing with Brock.

Rusty felt like Brock had found the ugliest one just for him, bright red matching his hair with vertical green stripes halfhazardly thrown everywhere and large puffs of cotton making an ugly large snow man in the center.

“Did you have to get the itchiest sweater you could find off the clearance rack?” Rusty whined loudly clawing at his shoulder as he walked out of the bathroom.

“Hank liked the snow man,” Brock said with his usual grunt, “Said it was waving at him.”

Rusty was sure his five year olds would have agreed to anything Brock would have suggested but didn’t argue just giving his body guard a frown.

“Its Christmas Eve,” Brock grunted at him frowning just as hard at him, “Pretend to be happy.”

“I’m always happy,” Rusty sneered at his body guard only letting his scowl turn into a smile as he turned his back on him and felt his part time lover smack him on the butt playfully, warning him to behave at his party.

Rusty knew how this worked, he was off the clock as his lover and just his full time body guard once more. That was fine with Rusty, after Myra, he was more then fine with the idea of never entering a full-time relationship again. He didn’t particularly enjoy the fear that someone wanted control every aspect of his life and threatened to yank any small piece of happiness he had if he didn’t comply, he had enough of that through out his childhood.

Love was only a concept, one that might not even exist, he was more then fine with Brock not showing he loved him at every turn, turning into a clingy mess on him.

He descended the stairs a genuine smile creeping into place hearing Pete and Billy arguing, voices hushed but the argument coming in clear as Rusty reached the bottom of the stair way.

“I don’t want to be the elf!”

“Just be the elf, Billy.”

“Those kids are too old to buy that we are Santa and his elf and I don’t know why Rusty thinks they will buy it!”

“They’re five, Billy, they won’t notice…”

“They won’t notice Santa is albino??”

“The boys are a little slow….”

Pete trailed off as Rusty joined them at the bar, frowning at him. Pete just gave a sheepish smile before turning Rusty’s attention right to Billy.

“Rust, tell Billy he needs to be Santa’s elf…”

“Billy, if you want to be at the Venture Christmas Party at all, you are getting in the elf costume,” Rusty said firmly giving him his best stink eye.

Billy scowled and complained the entire way up the stairs but Rusty knew he came every year expecting to finally meet the original team Venture. Rusty highly doubted that would happen and always assumed Brock told them to stay away knowing Rusty hated the holidays enough without having to revisit what made them so awful as a child.

“Are you still thinking about it?” Pete mumbled to him after Billy was out of earshot.

“What’s there to think about?” Rusty answered with a shrug stepping behind the bar to make a drink. Brock the saint he was got him enough peppermint flavored everything to really get drunk off Holiday spirit.

Pete was quick to back of the conversation, instead telling him he brought enough records to keep the small party going till midnight. No one would be here, no one ever showed up. His father’s old partners still mad at him for already dragging the company under, trying to prove something to someone he could make it without his father and not taking the safer business bets.

Brisby was still fuming he wasn’t even listening to his offer of turning his own sons into the hot new boy adventurers.

He hadn’t heard from his ‘uncles’ since the funeral, so that left no one else to attend the annual Christmas blow out.

Maybe Mike would show up like he said he would, promising once more for the tenth year in a row since he had left college.

No luck in getting Ben to show up, he hadn’t left his house since the twins had been ‘born’.

It just left the family, as always. No cameras, no expectations, no pretending to Rusty Venture boy adventurer.

He took a long sip of his peppermint concoction staring at the tree remembering being so much smaller posing in front of it with everyone his father invited. His smile not allowed to drop, he felt free being able to glare at it now. Still his shoulders were tense hoping no one caught him not smiling.

“Where are the boys? I wanna make sure I’m in costume before they come down stairs.”

Rusty passed a drink to Pete rolling his eyes at how excited he was to play Santa again, the role would probably go to Brock next year and this would be the last time he could don the beard.

“Another hour in the learning bed and I’ll go get them. Then you know you just need to give them a present and tell them to be good boys or whatever.”

He watched Pete rush up the stairs as well, more excited then Billy had been to take his role for the party.

Rusty made another drink watching Brock sit at the bar in front of him.

“Want some?”

“I’m good,” Brock responded eying the drink in Rusty’s hand with disgust, “Just give me whiskey. Don’t add anything weird to it.”

Rusty made his drink quickly, Whiskey plain with none of Rusty’s ‘weird shit’ and no ice. Just as Brock took it every day when he wasn’t showing off drinking straight from the bottle.

“Ya know yer uncle Rodney called.”

Rusty pinched his lips at the news, but didn’t have anything to say about it so just made a noise acknowledging he heard Brock passing him the drink.

“He was drunk,” Brock began taking the drink and downing it in one go before continuing, “Kept babbling about how he wanted to make it right with ya. How sorry he was it ended up this way.”

Rusty didn’t say anything, there was a time when he would have wanted to hear this. When he was twelve and so dead inside he just wanted confirmation anyone loved him, after his dad died and he was left to sink not knowing how to swim without his father loudly telling him how to keep afloat. Now he had nothing left to feel for them, he used to love his uncle Rodney the most too before he got bad on action juice.

“I told him the boys didn’t need this petty drama between you two ruining their Christmas and he shouldn’t bother coming here.”

Rusty snickered at that, silently thanking Brock pouring him another round of Whiskey.

\---

“And have ya been good, Dean?”

Dean was practically bouncing, spinning now in his excitement, making little gasped cries nodding his head for Pete in his loose Santa outfit, his beard practically falling off as he leaned down to give Dean a hug.

“Santa believes ya and my elf has a gift just for ya and Hank better not break it like he did last year.”

Pete turned a stern glare to the blonde boy looking desperately towards his father and body guard.

“We told you Santa was always watching and breaking Dean’s stuff was naughty,” Rusty said firmly but it dropped into a smile as Hank’s lips began quivering.

“But ya were good the rest of the year to get something too,” Brock cut in turning a glare on Pete who shrank back and Billy began snickering letting Dean give him a giant hug for the gift.

“How come Santa still looks like your weird albino friend,” Hank muttered crossing his arms and making Billy turn a large ‘I told you so!’ look at Rusty while Pete just nervously scratched the back of his head.

“Yer uncle Pete is very stylish and Santa is honored to take some fashion hints from him,” Pete said quickly cutting the routine short shoving Hank’s gift at him to get his mind off it. 

The boys made quick of tearing open their gifts. Both getting the same remote control cars this year so neither could fight over who got the better gift again. Both wearing huge smiles as they crowded around Rusty shoving the toys at him to look at.

“I see that boys,” Rusty chuckled pulling them both into hugs, “You both have the same one. So no fighting over who is the favorite again.”

“We won’t!” they both cried out crushing their father as they hugged him tight around the midsection again.

He patted them on the head, looking towards Brock for help, they had very strong grips and Rusty could feel the bruises already setting in the harder they latched onto him.

“Alright boys, enough,” Brock said firmly, “Head back up stairs. One bed time story before you go to sleep so Santa can get back to delivering to the other kids.”

Rusty finally took a large breath as they bolted back upstairs mouthing thank you to Brock as he followed behind them, picking up a copy of the Night Before Christmas on the way to their room.

That man was the real Christmas miracle around here.

“Soooo,” Pete began watching his family disappear.

Rusty just glared at him as he leaned in close.

“When are you and Brock going to finally tie the knot?”

Rusty groaned loudly in annoyance at that, shooting back quickly.

“As soon as you and Billy do.”

He smirked listening to them beginning their denial as he settled next to Brock watching him with a large smile as he read the book. Gently he made sure both his sons were tucked in tight enough as they began nodding off.

The holidays had always been about being perfect, being the perfect doll for his father to show off. He hated thinking of being in that spot light again.

But as long as Brock was here, as long as the boys were alive, maybe they weren’t so bad.


End file.
